


The Boy With The Broken Halo

by WeAreStarStuff



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam Is Just Along For The Ride, Other, Warlock Dowling & Adam Young Friendship, Warlock Dowling: demon hunter, but could be seen as pre slash?, even I don't know what they are to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29711157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeAreStarStuff/pseuds/WeAreStarStuff
Summary: “So why are you doing this?” Warlock asked one day when it was Adam’s turn to drive the tesla they’d stolen.For the briefest fraction of a second he’d stopped tapping his hands on the steering wheel along to "Another One Bites the Dust". Imperceptible to someone else maybe, but he’d caught it.“Doing what?” His voice did not waver.Warlock glared. “You know exactly what I mean. You had my name on that sign. You were waiting for me.”Adamant sighed, “yeah, I do.”“Well?”“Just curious I guess. I wanna see what you’ll do next. And it’s been a long time since someone didn’t look at me like I’m nuts. It’s nice. I guess.”
Relationships: Warlock Dowling & Adam Young, Warlock Dowling/Adam Young
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	The Boy With The Broken Halo

When Warlock was three, a man jumped from out of a dark alley and came at his nanny with a knife. She made quick work of her assailant and assured her young charge that the man was neither dead nor, in fact, a man. The attacker had been sent back to hell and hopefully would choose a wiser time to enact their petty revenge than in the presence of their future king. 

As she spoke, she seemed to radiate a strange black light that crackled like lightning. He could still remember the heat from it. 

When he was ten, he almost drowned in the pool. His tutor rescued him. Though at that moment, he didn’t look like dull old Mr Cortese. He seemed to shine like a star. However, the light around him felt ice cold. 

When he was eleven, his parents dragged him on a trip to Megiddo. 

It had been strange, half-remembered like a dream. 

He thought that would be the last of the weirdness. 

He was wrong. 

When Warlock was sixteen, he had a friend named Dillon. He was mischievous and packed with energy. His hair was electric blue hair and he had a wicked laugh. And Warlock had been just the slightest bit in love with him. 

For Dillon’s birthday, they went to see “Stolas” a singer he’d been crazy about. Warlock had even gone to the trouble of getting backstage passes. The lights went down and that was when it all went to shit. Warlock saw the vocalist, and only barely resisted the urge to scream. 

In the United States there is a charming show for young children. It featured a talking anthropomorphic bird that taught children their numbers and letters. That had been about the closest comparison warlock could think of. If Big Bird had a human face with far too many far too sharp teeth. And looked ten times more horrible in the colored lights. 

He turned to grab Dill and run, but the singer had started to sing and his friend was rooted to the spot. 

He looked around and if anyone else noticed the truth they did nothing to show it. In fact the whole room seemed to be in a trance.

After the show Warlock opted out of meeting Stolas, and Dillon went on without him. 

He would always regret that. 

Two hours in and Dill still hadn’t come out. Warlock went back to investigate. 

He found Stolas chewing on a chunk of some sort of very red meat. 

He found Dillon (or what was left of him, rather) on the couch. He resisted the urge to vomit. 

Stolas smiled red and wide “oh look! Dessert!” He’d said. 

When he was a kid his Nanny gave him a toy sword. And the gardener taught him how to use it. 

His umbrella despite its katana handle was definitely not a sword. But he held it the way his gardener taught him to and when he made contact with his wouldbe murderer, he screamed as if he’d been burned. 

The rest was a bit of a blur, but at the end the siren fell to the floor and disintegrated into dust. 

He’d looked at the headless corpse of his friend and closed his eyes for a moment. 

Warlock walked out wearing Dillon’s clothes with Dillon’s wallet in his pocket. 

He didn’t know where to go, so he picked a direction and drove. 

It was as if a switch had been flipped and all the supernatural entities in the world seemed to be seeking him out after that. 

Apparently there weren't just demons in the world but also angels and all manner of creatures in between. 

Most didn’t want trouble. Some were helpful even. But all too often he would have to fight. 

Somewhere along the way he picked up a grimoire and started making his way through it. The spells came easy. Almost like he was meant to learn them.

When he was 18, he learned that angels were just as real as demons. He wasn’t impressed. She mostly just stared at him as though he were an alphabet she’d never seen before.

When he was twenty-two he met Adam Young. 

It had been after one the nicer the adventures involving the retrieval of a Coat for a Selkie with a truly evil ex boyfriend. 

He’d been driving out of a town that he’d thought maybe he could stay in for a while (a foolish thought), when he saw a young man holding a sign on the side of the road. He’d seen lots of hitchhikers before but his sign didn’t have a city or even a plea for help. Instead it just had one word in Large scratchy letters. “Warlock”. 

Warlock gave a wry grin and slowed down to a halt. 

The other man got in with a quick “Thanks, Mate!” And Warlock got his first good look at him.

He had a face like an Ancient Greek statue, or a renaissance painting. It was framed with a halo of blonde curls. 

“So,Where to?” Warlock had asked. 

“I was actually about to ask you that.” The hitchhiker confessed.

In the year since they met, Warlock was able to infer three facts about Adam Young. That he was English. That he was some reason was unable to return home again, and that he was immensely powerful and probably not human. 

Despite the questions Warlock was glad to have someone who could see the same scenery as himself so he opted not to ask. It wasn’t like he was exactly forthcoming himself. 

“So why are you doing this?” Warlock asked one day when it was Adam’s turn to drive the tesla they’d stolen. 

For the briefest fraction of a second he’d stopped tapping his hands on the steering wheel along to  _ Another One Bites the Dust _ . Imperceptible to someone else maybe, but he’d caught it. 

“Doing what?” His voice did not waver. 

Warlock glared. “You know exactly what I mean. You had my name on that sign. You were  _ waiting _ for me.”

Adamant sighed, “yeah, I do.”

“Well?”

“Just curious I guess. I wanna see what you’ll do next. And it’s been a long time since someone didn’t look at me like I’m nuts. It’s nice. I guess.”

Warlock settled back into his seat. It was more than he was expecting really. For all the guy liked to talk he sure said a lot of nothing. 

It reminded him of Nanny Ash really. 

“What about you?” He asked, “why are  _ you _ on an eternal road trip of death?” 

“This is gonna sound stupid but when I was a kid I was sort of adopted by a demon and angel. My nanny, the gardener, even a couple of my  _ teachers _ . Pretty sure it was the same two, In hindsight. I don’t know why, but surely there had to be a reason for it right? Why else would heaven and hell work together to make me if they didn’t have a purpose?”

His friend was quiet, “and what do you think that purpose is?” 

“I don’t know. But Nanny Ash used to call me the future king.” 

Adam threw his head back and laughed. “Come on then, your highness. Let’s find you a kingdom.”

He hit the accelerator and they continued east. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
